COLD TRAP

Chapter 61 

MIRABELLA 

Am I truly living? Or am I yearning for death in order to truly live? 

Is a question that I’ve continuously asked myself for years. 

I live because death is promised. 

Through the promise of death, I breathe. 

Through the promise of death, I yearn for the ability to truly live. 

When I’m faced with death, I expect it to be the happiest day of my life. Almost like finally seeing your long, lost friend. 

I hope for death’s embrace to be soft and warm, to make me feel like I’m at 

remember. 

mat home–the home I’ve 

ve always been in search of for as long as I can 

Sincerely, I’ve become very impatient as I await death’s call upon me. So, I remind myself with each passing day that I am one day closer to being faced with death. 

And today is that day. 

When against all opposition, I’m adorned in a leather body tight jumpsuit, fully strapped with guns and blades, ready to take on the bastards who were brave enough to abduct my daughter. 

We all file out–men and women trained for war. 

It’s with heaving breaths that we all take our positions. 

It is with a shaky voice that I bark 

rkout my orders to my soldiers. 

It is with a raging heart that my husband barks out series of instructions to his men. 

“I don’t care if we all die here today, but make sure that my wife, daughter and son makes it out of this shit hole untouched and unharmed. They’re your priority.” Has been my husband’s chant. 

A prayer. 

A plea 

his all to protect his 

Tlook at him and his eyes are bloodshot red. His orbs are intentional. He stares at me and all I see is a man willing to give his all t 

family. 

I see a man who’s scared of losing because we all know that today, we toss a coin of two sides. 

To win or to lose, no in between. 

But we’re nothing but hopeful 

Today, the man whom I once looked up to as a father is waging a great war against me–to his own detriment. 

He might have had a few years to prepare but I’ve had my entire life. 

All the pain accumulated in my heart has prepared me for this day, and there’s absolutely no going back. I’ll walk out of here a winner. 

I’ll no longer lose. 

As though the heavens desire to witness the bloodshed, the sky envelopes us in its darkness, thick silver clouds rumbling with a rage so loud that I don’t register the sound of the first gunshot. 

Or maybe it is I who is lost in the realm of imagination. 

“Shill Baby, please focus. Rigid arms engulf me protectively. The deep rumble of that familiar voice draws me back into reality. 

I am his priority. 

I go mad, pressing down on the triggers on b 

on both the guns in my hands until my index fingers are close to falling off. 

Minutes pass but the crossfire looks unending. People drop down dead, and yet, nobody appears to be giving up. 

“The blue van, Mirabella! Mariana is in the blue van!” Ares grunts into the comm. For the first time since this unending war began, I begin fighting viscously–with purpose. 

Like an unspoken rule, the entire battlefield goes silent the moment the van slowly makes its way into the middle of the landscape. All that can be heard are hushed whispers and light footsteps against the ground–everything becomes silent, but even the silence is twice as loud as the initial chaos. 

Matteo and I run through the field as quietly as we can, our guns pointed at the van, fingers itching and ready to press down on the trigger at 

the slightest inconvenience. 

“Stop moving, Bella, you’ve been surrounded.”/ Ares whispers into the comm, I and Matteo come to an abrupt halt. 

The both of us turn around–his face turned away from me and mine turned away from him. Both our backs lean against one another, our guns aimed forward. 

“You look so hot in that outfit, wife.” He grunts, dragging a sneer out of me. Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“Stop talking, Matteo.” 

“Turn around and shoot, Mirabella. Two bullets to the left. Be precise.” I obey his instruction. With one swift motion, I spin around and hug into his chest before firing my gun twice. His gun is fired just at the same time as mine. 

He grunts out a breath and I do same, weirdly finding comfort in the chaos of the moment. 

I go to move away from him but he doesn’t let me go. With eyes so weary, my husband looks down at me, causing a wobble of my 

bones. 

I don’t know what melts away the anger in my heart.. is it the shakiness of his breath? Is it the tremble of his lips? Or the plea in his eyes? Perhaps the manner at which my heart jumps in excitement? 

There’s not an idea. 

“I love you, Mirabella.” His words are whispered, the air of it sweeping across my face. I gulp. 

“I heard you say those words before, and yet, you gave up on us. You pushed me away and ruined us…” 

Alone tear slides down his face, his jaw ticking with irritation. Regret, perhaps. “I made a mistake. Please, give me another chance to correct my mistakes.” 

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I offer him a shake of my head. “This isn’t the time, Matteo. We’re here to get our daughter back-” 

“We’re here to make our family complete, baby. Please don’t keep me away from you any longer…“His voice breaks, another tear sliding down his cheek. I fist my hands to stop myself from reaching for his face. “We’ll surely get our baby back, but give me a chance to be there for the three of you, please. I want to be there for us,” 

My lips part but before I’m able to get a word out, gunshots ripple through the air. My head along with Matteo’s whip to the side and there she is, my daughter, my princess, pushed out of the truck, left for ruin in the middle of the chaos. 

She looks confused and exhausted. 

The look of excitement that passes through her orbs when she sights her father and I sends tears pooling from my eyes. 

I go to move forward but Matteo pulls me back, holding me steady. 

“Would they really go through all this trouble just to let her go?” The implication of his question hangs in the air. 

I’m discouraged. 

If it were another person standing in the middle of that dead zone, I’d turn my back and walk away. But this is my daughter. What kind of mother would I be if I left my daughter for death just to protect myself? 

A selfish mother I suppose. 

There’s nothing to protect anyway, I’ve always desired the embrace of death, and if today is the day, I’ll gladly go 

Mariana’s tiny legs move against the ground. She runs towards her father and I as speedily as her legs can move. Another wave of chaos 

ensues. 

Gunshots are fired repeatedly but somehow, Mariana succeeds at navigating her way unscathed. 

grip on me tightens. He blows out a breath and whispers, “will you take me back?” 

I go to run but Matteo’s fr 

“Now’s really not the time.” I hiss 

“Answer me.” He demands. 

“ND. 

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